AT THE CHURCH O THE PINES, it is a fine morning. Old Man River ripples and sparkles. The blue jays—not the most melodious members of the choir—nevertheless are singing their parts with gusto. The deer have been by for their morning snack in Fellowship Hall. And the chickadees, as always, chat and gossip sweetly. The Keeper of the thermostat has
MAN’S INHUMANITY to man is a story as old as humanity itself. One of the places we go to find hope, respite and relief is Church. Yet we humans ostracize each other, stab and shoot each other, cut off one another’s heads and bomb one another, because of which church we attend. Here by the Mississippi River on the edge
ON THIS SUNDAY MORN I am back within the friendly confines of the Church O The Pines. It is a good feeling to return after a wonderful week guiding Road Scholars in SE Minnesota’s Bluff Country/Driftless Area. We call the trip Birds and Blossoms, as we haunt the woods, streams, and bottomlands of the great Mississippi flyway. On this particular